Here I am, sitting in the office of my old store, babysitting for what I hope will be the last time. Two crews of workmen have arrived; one for the tech and another for the coolers and freezers. The tech guys got right to work, no more internet, no more phones. Fortunately, I still have power baby, so I can type away on my laptop, that I was smart enough to bring along to keep me company today. I went to the bagel shop in the plaza and got my usual, BLT on a cheddar jalapeno bagel, extra bacon, and mayo, please. The one tech guy commented on how good it smells, as I plunged my ravenous teeth into its layers of deliciousness. I know I can visit the bagel shop anytime I want, but this time is special, because it is the last time I will eat it here, using my desk as a dining table, in the once busy office of a store that is no more.
Today’s theme is acceptance. As of late, this topic has been popping up in my life. Acceptance of the end of my old store, acceptance of my new team and them of me, acceptance of the learning curve in running a new location, and as in my last story, acceptance of finding a new safe-haven, a new “goo”. However, something else happened the other day that shook me to my very core. I realized that there is a whole other level of acceptance I need to work on, one that I have most likely battled my whole life, acceptance in trusting myself, my instincts, and loving myself, no matter the outcome.
Like most folks, I have a Facebook page. This account has allowed me to reconnect with many people from my childhood, through adulthood. I have a lot of “Friends”, but many of them, I honestly do not know, not really. I have accepted invites based on association of people I do know and that is where my story begins. I received a friend request and the only reason I even considered accepting it was because someone from my high school was friends with this person. If memory serves me, it was a woman from high school. Please bear with me, this bit of information will prove important in a moment.
So, me being me, Gullible Gail, I accepted the friend request. Almost immediately, I received a message of “hello”. I was like, whatever and ignored it. I did however, look at this man’s page. He wasn’t from my high school or even from my area for that matter. He had pictures of family and of himself as a child and now-a-days, a lovely home, and a few general postings, mostly religious. His cover photo was of a holy cross, so I figured he was someone wanting to spread the word of the Lord. That’s cool, I could always use a little more faith in my life.
Side story: One time while shopping at the local grocery store with my kid, at each aisle l kept asking things like, “Are we good on milk?” “Are we good on cereal?” “Are we good on toilet paper?” When we got to the aisle with those religious candles, you know what I’m talking about, he had the brilliance to ask, “Are we good on Jesus?” Yep, that’s my kid!
Anyway, back to what happened to spur me into writing this blog. I received another message from this man, a long one detailing his life. Okay? Then, I received a message from Facebook informing me that this profile had like an alternate ID, or something, I should have taken a screenshot, but I do remember it making me feel very uncomfortable. I put my phone down and bling, bling, bling, 3 more messages. Two of them were informing me that they had been “unsent”. I immediately thought, so he already is writing to multiple women and mistakenly sent me a message meant for someone else, who he is further along with his story than he is with me. I’ve played this game before. I did internet dating and yes, I’ve been scammed before, I felt sick to my stomach.
All the signs were there, I should have immediately stopped all communication with this person. I mean, who writes long paragraphs about personal information about all the intimate details of their life and shares them with strangers? Oh wait, I do that, but I’m an over-sharer, have been my whole life and besides, I’m a woman. I don’t know any real man who would write so much about himself, like ever, unless being tortured or threatened, do you? Okay, maybe for money, but not in a casual “getting to know you” conversation, right?
I was a nervous wreck. I wanted to delete and block this person immediately, but I didn’t. What if I was wrong about this person? What if, in fact they did think I was beautiful and wanted to get to know me? What if they are just as lonely as I am, longing for a personal connection? I haven’t been with someone in so long, I think I am technically, once more, I am a virgin. I wouldn’t want to be a bad person and mistakenly hurt someone’s feelings. I decided to wait until the evening to look at the messages more carefully.
All day long, this attempt to connect with someone and how uneasy it made me feel, plagued me. What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I just cut it off, right there? I know why, because for a moment I felt desired. My whole life, all I have dreamed about was truly being loved and desired by a man. All the men in my life, family excluded, have never truly desired being with me, not really. They all left so easily, no hesitation, at the first moment of strife, they just walked out and never looked back. Why? Why is this my story with men? I know it’s not because I’m ugly or fat, I’m not mean or untrustworthy, I’m not stupid or needy, so what is it?
As I drove home from work, I thought about what I would say to this person before deleting them. How I may apologize for possibly being wrong about them being sincere in their desire to connect with me, but that my past internet experiences were telling me that he was not real and that I needed to spare myself the grief of being scammed, yet again. The more I thought about being nice, the more I hated myself. I don’t need to be nice to someone I don’t even know. For all I know, I am right and this person is trying to use me, I do not need to be nice! No matter how difficult, I cannot be nice.
As soon as I arrived home, I went to my Facebook page. If you recall, I had mentioned that the person from high school that had also connected with this person had been a woman, but I now realized that the only “friend” we had in common was a man, it had changed. I had thought about reaching out to this person, someone I do remember from high school, but thought it would not matter. I knew what I had to do. I didn’t want to leave without a message, because at the end of the day, I am that nice, but I found the words to end it all without being too nice. “I have changed my mind. Good bye.”…delete…block.
I didn’t sleep well that night, although, I should have. I found the strength to “delete…block”, but it left me feeling bad and yes, maybe a little bit lonely. I do miss being in a “relationship” even though I now know, that I really have never been in one. I’ve only ever been a pawn in someone’s game, but it was of my own free will, I am the only one to blame for never truly being loved or desired. I suppose, some of us just aren’t meant to know those feelings. It was nice to pretend for a while, but it was never real. I had also made the mistake of staying up too late, enjoying the company of my kid and eating too much before turning in. I had to be up early the next day too, so I maybe got three hours of sleep, all my own fault.
I truly intended to leave work early the next day. I had plenty of team members scheduled, so I should have been able to leave early, but I didn’t. Instead, I ended up remerchandising a set that my new team members were eager to do. I truly enjoyed the experience, so no matter that it took a couple of hours, it was fulfilling work and it made me smile. However, as the day wore on, I wore down and I finally made myself leave, but I was leaving my team in a good place. During the long drive home, I kept thinking about my friend Ray. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, so I decided to call her and check in. I told her about the Facebook incident and told her that I know why this keeps happening to me. I know that scam artists see my pic and decide that I must be someone who would be desperate for attention. After all, who would choose a fat girl with glasses, someone who lives a moderate lifestyle, likes to take care of plants, and makes an excellent cheesecake? The answer is, no one. Not unless, they are crazy or love cheesecake, or both.
The answer I received from Ray was not what I expected. What I had expected was her usual response to my self-pity party monologues, “Cancel/Clear! Quit that stinkin’ thinkin’!” No, instead she said that I look like a nice person. I look like someone who would be willing to help…a.k.a. a nice person. You know, that is something I get accused of being, a lot. I remember the time I went to give John the Pilot some of his mail that kept coming to my house. I had scared him because he didn’t realize that I knew where he really worked, as a front desk clerk at a hotel, not at an airport as a pilot. I was glad that he looked scared, he should be scared. A lesser woman would have walked in there and might have done something, something not so nice. Instead, I handed him his mail and had a pleasant conversation with him. I said that I really missed our conversations and you know what he said? He said, that I was the nicest person he knew. See, nice people are easy prey.
My greatest regret is that I don’t seem to learn from my lessons, that is until I am beaten over the head, repeatedly by them. Yes, I finally did the “delete…block”, but not until I had beaten myself up about not only accepting the friend request, but not stopping the attempted attack immediately. I knew, I knew what was happening and I still hoped, for a moment, that I was wrong. I didn’t trust my instincts and I paid the price, a bad night’s sleep, and a beating to my self-esteem. I keep duplicating my poor behavior and I don’t accept that I am wise enough to know when someone is lying to me and stand up to them. I’m afraid of being wrong about that person and being unnecessarily mean to them. I keep trying to be nice to those who are not being nice to me. This is something I need to stop doing and accept the fact that there simply are people in this world who are not nice and will take advantage of me, because I am.
When I walked into this store this morning, I laid my keys on the desk and noticed the “Do Not Duplicate” message on the store’s key. What a brilliant lesson for me to learn, do not duplicate past behaviors that have led me to this life of self-deprecation. Do not duplicate being gullible and easily manipulated. Do not duplicate being nice to those who have not earned my trust. Do not duplicate being fearful of rejection and being alone.
I left the store today, without any trauma or a dramatic farewell sob. Okay, I did tear up a little bit, but I did not cry. I set the alarm and walked to the exit, one last time. Hopefully, I didn’t leave behind anything of value, I tend to worry about that, especially in hotel rooms, but I digress. I like to think, if I left anything behind at my old store, it was all the crippling worries and fears that I had created for myself. Everything that I will not duplicate at my new store, or wherever else I go. “Do Not Duplicate” words to live by, I think I will keep this key, possibly frame it, as a reminder to trust my instincts and not to worry so much about not being nice.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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